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Urtica Swan/Diary
(NOTE: You're reading the diary of Urtica Swan. Except for the introduction, the following text has been transcribed from cap locks.) GUIDANCE COUNSELLOR YAGA THINKS I NEED A YEAR DIARY. SHE'S BEEN GIVING ME ALL SORTS OF REASONS: * "YOU CAN PRACTICE YOUR ENGLISH LIKE THE OTHER FOREIGN STUDENTS!" (IT'S MY FIRST LANGUAGE, MDM YAGA, PLEASE.) * "YOU CAN FINALLY GET OFF YOUR PHONE AND GET RID OF ALL THAT NEGATIVITY!" (BUT HATE FUELS MY SOUL!) * "IT'LL BE A FUN EXPERIENCE!" I HAVE NO SASSY RESPONSE TO THE LAST ONE, SO I GAVE IN TO PRESSURE AND BOUGHT THIS BOOK. THIS COST ME TWO DOLLARS, MADAME YAGA. I'M POOR NOW. I'M EATING DIRECTLY OUT OF A CAN OF BEANS NOW. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY. THERE'S A SMILEY FACE ON THE COVER NEXT TO THE WORDS: "Today is the first day of the rest of your life!" GAG ME ALREADY. I REALLY HOPE I DON'T REGRET THIS. A New Orientation I slapped Apple White today. I regret nothing. Here's the thing about being the next Eliza: everyone assumes you're quiet and shy and perfect, and that it's okay to say "We all get to chose our own destinies now! No one's forcing Urtica to be quiet!" to my face in the Royals Common Room. No. No I don't get to choose my own destiny. I have eleven brothers that may never be human again, my mom is dead, my dad doesn't remember my name; the only way I can ever fix this is if I shut my mouth and sew. I'm not going to stop sewing, not for hell, or the coming of Allah, or Apple "Little Miss Perfect" White. In that moment, I felt like I was going to cry - which is a Very Bad Thing, because I'm not aloud to sob out loud - so I swallowed hard. And I stood up. And I walked over to Apple. And I raised my hand. And I don't know what happened next, but it was over in a second: Apple White was sprawled on the floor, clutching her face, one of her insane platform heels knocked right off her feet. I've always been short but in that moment I was towering over her. And I. Felt. Great. Which brings me to this diary. I've got three weeks of detention, and a lot of time, so let's get to know each other a little better. Chapter 1 I handed in the first page of my diary as a Creative Writing assignment. I got lazy. My only regret is that I upset Professor Scheherazade in Creative Writing. She thinks it's offensive I said Allah's name in vain in my last entry. Maybe it is to her, but I guess I wasn't really thinking about it. I tried to tell her I stopped practicing, and that maybe I don't really believe in the Big Guy Upstairs. Like, I ate bacon in a salad once and I really don't regret it, and I don't think anyone knows where my shayla is anymore. Sorry, Prof Scheherazade. Somewhere along the lines, I just stopped caring about the greater divinity. It's not like good things fall in your lap if you bow and recite the prayers - good things happen to those who work. Chapter 2 Apple invited me to a swaree swari soiree: "To show there aren't any hard feelings between us!" She says it's just her and Briar, and a couple other Royals, and I get a "plus-one", too. How generous.'' '' I signed the words NOT IF YOU WERE THE LAST LITTLE TROGLODYTE ON THE PLANET. Apple, not understanding a word of Sign Language, pumped my hand up and down and said: "Great! See you at eight, Urtica!!" Sometimes I really, really hate that girl. Chapter 3 My roomate, Hildy, thinks I should go. I mean, sure, I did slap Apple on her face. And, whether or not Apple deserved it, she was nice enough to want me around her, sharing oxygen with her and taking up space. I guess that's kind of nice of her. Hildy is the daughter of a king who killed a giant - and you need a lot of cojones to kill a giant. So, when she thinks something is right, there's no arguing with her. That soiree is probably all poncey and boring but if she thinks I should go to hell, I'll go. Hildy's in the next room picking dresses for us. I'm googling pictures of my dad, back in Saudi. (He's getting fatter - and another American corporate crime professor is investigating him for taking bribes again, what else is new?) I'm trying really hard not to think about what happens next... Chapter 4 Well, that was a rollercoaster from start to finish. We got there at eight, after dinner, and just in time to get served canapés. I love canapés. I shovelled the assortment into a tupperware I'd brought with me, and nibbled my way through introductions: Hello, Daring; so good to see you, Briar; is that a new fur coat, Romona? Rinse, steal more canapés, and repeat. There comes a point in every public event where you start getting comfortable in your act. You know, after the third pass by the buffet table, your smiling almost feels natural, and the urge to punch someone begins to fade... and then Apple White hands you a script. It was hefty. Probably twenty pages. Flipping through it, I noticed the bulk of the script were stage directions, written neatly in italics: "After finishing monologue, shed a single tear," "Sob and clasp hands mournfully," ''Ugh. Classic Apple White. Across the room, she held up her corresponding copy, all stapled together neatly in a bundle. Now, most of the Royals have parents in politics, anyway - none of us were strangers to scripted public events - but what caught me off guard was the title: '''URTICA SWAN'S APOLOGY' That. Little. ''BITCH!'' She invited me to her little swaree so I could tell all the royals how much I loved and admired her, and how I never meant to hurt her feelings or something even worse. Ohh. I could see her smug little face right now, pretending to be sad as I recited my heartfelt apologies-- "Everyone!" Non-imaginary Apple called out, clinking her glass with a spoon. "Urtica and I have something very important to say to each other!" She looked me in the eye. "Urtica? I have something to say to you--" "OH, NO, APPLE," I held up my hand to silence her, and began to sign: "IT'S MY TURN TO TALK, YOU FETID LITTLE PILE OF HUMAN FAECES-" "What are you doing?" Apple mouthed. "Follow the script!" A thin frown was worming its way across her face. "I'M NOT SITTING HERE READING FROM YOUR HAPPY FAMILIES PLAYBOOK, PRETENDING EVERYTHING IS OKAY." I continued, "YOU WERE AN ASS TO THINK I HAVE A CHOICE IN MY DESTINY." At this point, it was starting to dawn on the rest of the Royals that something wasn't right. Alistair Wonderland, who spoke sign and (three other cryptography languages) leaned over to whisper worriedly to Bunny Blanc, who than mouthed something to Faybelle Thorn. Briar Beauty snorted awake and sat upright. Ashlynn Ella looked sick. "AND YOU KNOW WHAT? EVERYONE I EVER GREW UP WITH IS DEAD AND I'M REALLY NOT SORRY I SLAPPED YOU. I'M REALLY NOT." And it was at this moment, I invited my 'Plus One' into the room. Chapter 5 Have you ever met a merman? The ones that aren't trying to impregnate virgins have these intense, pointy teeth - all the better for eating you. Or, in Ruaridh Minch's case, eating through the drywall Apple had installed last season to hang her full body portrait. The moment I'd texted him the go ahead, Ruaridh had five seconds to bite through the plaster wall, the back of the frame, the canvas tenter, and the painting itself. His head appeared in an explosion of sawdust and sound, through the hole where Apple's oil painted face had been a second ago - red from exhaustion, teeth grinding, and wearing an excited, smug little smile: "HEEEEERE'S RUARIDH!!!" Ashlynn Ella screeched and fainted. Briar Beauty looked fundamentally offended. And off in the distance, Bunny Blanc had toppled over the coffee table, thrown a chair through the window glass, and was running, screaming off down the lawn. I gave Ruaridh my best thumbs up. He was always good for parties. (to be continued)Category:Diaries